


I'm Not Sure How I Feel About Him

by ash_mcj



Series: Teen Wolf Outsider POVs [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, 5+1, 5+1 Things, Affectionate Derek Hale, Allison Argent & Malia Tate & Jackson Whittemore are Siblings, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Chris Argent & Peter Hale & Sheriff Stilinski Friendship, Chris Argent is Derek Hale’s Parental Figure, Claiming, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Cute Kids, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Jealous Derek Hale, Kid Derek Hale, Kid Fic, Kid Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate & Jackson Whittemore are Peter Hale's Kids, Malia Tate & Jackson Whittemore are Siblings, Multi, POV Outsider, POV Outsider on Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Peter Hale, Peter Hale is Derek Hale’s Parental Figure, Pre-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), SECRETLY, Scenting, Stiles Stilinski & Malia Tate Friendship, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Favorite, The Hale Family, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: [5 Times Peter noticed that his aloof nephew seemed to have an affinity for Stiles, and 1 Time he confronted him about it]Peter tried his hardest to remain uninvolved in Christopher's newfound theory of Stiles being Derek's mate, but...well, remaining uninvolved just wasn't his specialty, okay? He found himself watching their interactions under a much closer eye and he quickly saw what had led his husband and their niece to such an extreme theory. What stuck out the most to Peter, though, was that Derek scented Stiles. Constantly. He wasn't quite sure if Derek realized what he was doing--but whether it was purposefully or not, Derek was making sure that every wolf in a ten mile radius was aware that Stiles Stilinski was claimed.Peter was mildly annoyed that he would indeed have to listen to Christopher tell him "I told you so", once the mate bond between the two turned into a relationship later on...but he supposed he couldn't have hoped for a better way for Stiles to join the pack.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf Outsider POVs [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003113
Comments: 477
Kudos: 1415
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AGES ARE ROUGHLY: Laura (16), Derek (12), Cora and Allison (7), Jackson, Malia, and Stiles (6)  
> Peter Hale and Chris Argent (Hale) are married and live at the Hale House with their three children: Allison, Jackson, and Malia. Their best friend is Noah Stilinski, so Stiles comes to the Hale house very frequently.
> 
> Inspired by the quote from Shameless (US):  
> “I wanna tell you something, but I don’t really wanna talk about it because I’m not sure how I feel about it, and I don’t wanna be told how to feel.”

For once, the pups were playing inside--which meant the adults of the Hale house had escaped outside for some semblance of privacy. Peter wasn’t quite sure what the point of it was, since he could clearly hear the movie playing in the living room and he knew Talia could, too. Sometimes he was jealous of his husband...he could just leave the room and not have to listen to the constant Disney songs that were blasting from their television. Peter felt like he couldn’t get away from them. 

“Chris, you’ll come with me to meet with Satomi on Saturday?” Talia asked in a voice that made it clear she wasn’t really giving him a choice. Peter was glad that Christopher was her Right Hand instead of him, because it meant that he had to accompany her much more often. Peter was usually only forced to go to the meetings when they were with packs who did not have peace agreements with the Hales.

“Of course,” Christopher agreed easily. Peter loved how seriously the man took his role in their pack. Something about the way his face and posture always became so professional and his voice hardened just slightly to convey that he wasn't someone to be messed with was just...it was sexy as hell. When they were teenagers, Peter called it his 'sexy badass hunter' mode and it accounted for a very large portion of the reason Peter threw caution to the wind and fell in love with him. Well, that and the mate bond. “I think Noah said something about coming over, so he and Peter can manage to keep the pups from killing each other for the day.”

“You have too much faith in Noah and I,” Peter said, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on his thighs as he mimicked the piano notes to the Beauty and the Beast song he could hear playing in the living room. He had to admit, out of all of the songs Allison asked (forced) him to learn, that was his favorite. 

Christopher rolled his eyes at him, which caused him to smile lightly. He loved seeing Christopher pick his mannerisms up--especially ones he always razzed him about doing.

"I need to go to the grocery store," Talia said, looking at the watch on her wrist.

"Oh, I actually need to get some things, too. Could I accompany you?" Christopher asked her.

"You're always welcome on my shopping trips."

Peter would never understand how Christopher was able to handle being around Talia. He was pretty sure he hadn't voluntarily spent time with his sister since he was about six and realized that she was the most annoying, self-involved, egotistical person he had ever met--and that was coming from _him_. It had to mean something awful if _Peter Hale_ thought it was bad. He had never been a huge fan of his sister and the two of them had been at each other's throats since Peter learned to speak. It all got so much worse when she was appointed as Alpha, because not only was did he think she was the last person to be in charge of a pack, but he actually had to give her the respect of being his alpha. It was much easier for Christopher to just deal with her instead.

Christopher had similar thoughts about her, though, so that should have meant even _more._ He was married to Peter and _he_ thought she was worse. Christopher's problems with her were less about her personality, though, and more about disliking her as an alpha...or a mother, for that matter. He and Peter had practically raised Derek and Cora after Talia decided to put all of her love and attention into Laura as the next heir. It was ridiculous and the topic of many late night drunken rants.

Peter’s attention snapped to the woods as he heard the rustling of two people coming towards the house. He listened for a moment, trying to decipher if it was a potential threat, then relaxed as he recognized the familiar sound of Derek’s dragging feet and the sharp tapping of Laura’s nails against her phone screen.

Relief washed through him at the realization that there had been no phone calls home and Derek had gotten through his first day of public school without any principal's office level issues. He and Chris had been more than a little worried about sending him, due to his lack of control and overall aloofness, but Talia had insisted that sixth grade was when the pups needed to get into the real world. Home schooling could only last so long. 

Laura emerged from the trees without looking up from her phone and Derek trudged behind with his hood over his head and his hands in the pockets of his red zip-up sweatshirt. It was several sizes too large for him, but Peter knew that he liked the way it allowed him to hide. He was rarely seen outside without it since he and Christopher had given it to him the previous Christmas.

Before Peter even had the chance to make a move to greet them, a blur raced past him from within the house. Laura side-stepped to avoid getting trampled, allowing Stiles to leap into the air towards Derek, who quickly yanked his hands free and caught him. The force sent the older boy stumbling back a couple of steps, but he regained his balance quickly. Peter watched interestedly as Stiles tilted his head to the side and Derek immediately ran the corner of his mouth and his cheek down Stiles’ neck twice, before setting him down. It only lasted a moment and Peter wouldn’t have even noticed had he not been paying such close attention.

Had Derek always scented Stiles that way? Peter knew it was common to scent pack members--especially pups--but he had only ever seen his nephew do it a few times in his life. Specifically, twice to Cora, once to Malia, and once to Peter himself...all of which were in response to _being_ scented. He had never seen him scent someone _first_.

Scenting was often used as a greeting between pack members, but it wasn’t something done just for the hell of it. It meant that you cared about the person and you were claiming them as yours by making them smell like you. Derek was _claiming_ Stiles so casually, it was as if it wasn't even a big deal.

“I started first grade today, Der!” Stiles exclaimed. Derek tried to take a step back in an attempt to regain some personal space, but Stiles reached forward and grabbed onto the white strings of the sweatshirt to hold him close. “And you went to school for the first time! Did you have so much fun? I had so much fun!”

“Not really,” Derek answered.

“What happened?”

“Lotta people.”

“They were mean to you?”

Derek shook his head. “They talked to me.”

“Oh, Derek!” Stiles giggled as he tied the strings into a knot. “They were trying to be your friend, probably.”

“Don’t want friends.”

“I’m your friend,” Stiles countered.

“You’re different.”

“I met a boy named Scott and he was really nice...his jaw looked kinda funny, but I didn’t tell him.”

Derek grunted in acknowledgement and allowed Stiles to lead him towards the porch by holding onto the knotted strings like a leash as they walked. Peter wondered how Derek seemed completely fine by this--he would have been bothered at being pulled around that way.

“You can’t be grumpy _all_ the time, Der,” Stiles told him.

“Watch me,” Derek said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

They made it to the porch and Derek looked over at his uncle, his smile disappearing off his face instantly as he seemed to notice his presence. Peter tried not to feel offended, since he knew it was likely just because he didn't appreciate being sneaked up on. Not that Peter was hiding or anything...Derek was just oblivious around Stiles, which probably wasn’t good. He had the habit of blocking everything else around him out whenever the younger boy spoke to him.

“How was school?” Peter asked him.

Just because he had been eavesdropping and had already heard that school was not Derek's favorite, he fully intended to act like he wasn't listening. That was rude, even in werewolf culture.

“Fine.” Derek shrugged. He swatted at Stiles' hands lightly and the boy let go of his strings. 

“No problems?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.” He smiled at him. “I think there’s cheese and crackers on the table, if the pups haven’t devoured them yet.”

Derek nodded and watched as Stiles ran into the house. “Thanks, Uncle Peter. I’ll go look.”

Peter reached out and ran his hand through Derek’s hair, which he leaned into for a few seconds, before inching away. Derek was always that way. He was affectionate, but in moderation. Peter was rather surprised by how long Derek had allowed Stiles to hold onto him. He watched the young werewolf hurry into the house, once again being left outside alone.

It had been nearly six months since Christopher had made his world-changing claim that he believed Derek and Stiles were _mates_ and Peter hadn’t meddled at all. Before now, he didn’t eavesdrop on their conversations or stare as they interacted or _anything_ , and he was genuinely impressed with himself.

He lasted almost half a year before deciding that he just couldn’t hold his curiosity off anymore. Because Derek had scented Stiles so _casually_ that it was making Peter wonder just how long it had been going on. How many times had Derek claimed Stiles without Peter noticing? He was around his godson all the time --in all honestly, he was probably closer to Stiles than most of his pack-- so how had he never smelled it? How had he just _missed_ Derek’s scent on him?

He wanted to think that maybe this was an uncommon occurrence between them, but Stiles tilted his head for him. He expected to be scented. Perhaps he was just used to the girls doing it, but Derek didn’t even _hesitate_. It seemed as if it were second nature.

Now Peter was curious, which meant his six months was for nothing. But damn it, he was going to find out if Chris and Laura were right about their theory of Stiles being Derek’s mate. 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter was in the kitchen, mixing together a package of cold lentils and a jar of...whatever the tomato and basil topping that typically went on bruschetta was called. He wondered if it's name was common knowledge, because he had no clue at all. Maybe he'd ask Christopher later.

Christopher and Derek were both sitting at the table, waiting to steal his food--which was completely unsurprising. The Hale house was full of scavengers. 

“What are you making?” Cora asked, poking her head into the kitchen from the entryway.

That _was_ the question, wasn’t it? Italian salsa, maybe?

“Lentils with tomatoes, basil, garlic, and oil,” he answered instead of throwing out random guesses.

“Ew.” Cora grimaced, before disappearing back into the living room.

“Derek, have I ever expressed to you that you are my favorite?”

“Because I eat your food?”

“Because you aren’t picky,” Peter amended. “If it’s not steak or bacon, Cora and Malia won’t touch it. Jackson only ever wants cheese. Allison won’t even get _near_ vegetables unless it’s green bean casserole--which isn’t really all that healthy. You are the only one who willingly eats the healthy food that I make.”

“Derek, you like _healthy_ food?” Stiles asked with a disgusted look on his face as he came into the room and leaned against the table. “What kind? Like _carrots_?”

“All kinds, I guess.” Derek shrugged.

“You just like all food?”

Derek gave an affirmative grunt.

“What’s your _favorite_ food?” Stiles wondered while tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

“Snickerdoodles.”

Peter froze for a moment in surprise, because firstly, he didn’t expect Derek to be so _forward_ ...and secondly, because he was _right_. He had been trying to place Stiles’ scent since he was born and it had always been right on the tip of his tongue--but that was it! Cinnamon, sugar, and a hint of vanilla. Snickerdoodles!

“What the heck is a sne-snik-sn-- _that_?” Stiles struggled through the unfamiliar word.

“Snickerdoodle,” Derek corrected his very poor attempt.

“It’s a cookie made with sugar and cinnamon,” Peter explained as he brought the large serving dish over to the table and set it down in the center. “Christopher actually used to make them a lot and they were delicious. Maybe he can make them for Christmas this year.”

“That’s a good idea,” Christopher agreed. "It's been awhile, so no one can judge me if I'm rusty."

"I'll definitely judge you. In fact, don't even bother coming to bed unless they're phenomenal," Peter told him, earning a light kick under the table.

Derek looked down at Stiles’ incessant tapping and asked, “What do you want?”

“Allie put on Bambi and I don’t like that movie.”

“Go read in my room.”

“Can I read _your_ books?”

“No.”

“Can I read your books later?”

“Stiles.”

“What?”

Derek swiftly reached out and brushed his hand up the back of Stiles’ neck and up into his hair, then lightly pushed his head away from him towards the entryway, causing the younger boy to stumble out of the kitchen with a giggle.

So, Derek really _did_ scent Stiles often. It wasn't just a one-off time the other day. How interesting...

“He keeps books in your room?” Christopher asked, a knowing smile on his face.

“A few.” Derek shrugged. “He put them in my bookshelf.”

Peter took a seat at the table with them and was about to comment on Derek’s growing library, when they heard Jackson’s scandalized voice shout from the living room.

“Papa, Malia is being _disgusting!_ ”

“What did she do?” Christopher asked, his voice tight in the way that made it clear he really didn't want to know the answer.

“She wants to _eat_ Bambi!” Allison elaborated, sounding equally horrified. "She said he looked like he would taste good!"

“You can eat deers!” Malia defended herself. “Deers are food sometimes.”

Christopher shot an accusatory look at Peter. “Your side of the genes are acting up again.”


	3. Chapter 3

The front door of the Hale house opened and Noah announced, “Honey, I’m home!”

“Noah, is that really you? Gods, you’ve changed so much since the last time I saw your face around here,” Peter told him as he walked to the entryway, where the man was standing.

“Oh, last week?”

“It’s felt like at least two.”

“If I had known your clinginess would be lifelong--”

“You wouldn’t have changed a single thing.” Peter waved him off, before pulling him into a hug and sweeping his hand down the back of his best friend’s head and neck

“When are you going to let me stop smelling like a dog?” Noah chaffed as he pulled away. 

“As soon as you move away from here.”

Peter had started scenting both Christopher and Noah when they were teenagers, since he wanted to make sure that the other creatures that tended to gravitate towards Beacon Hills would be aware they were claimed by the wolves of the area. His reasoning still stood.

Stiles pranced in through the front door and asked, “Where’s _my_ hug?”

“Hm,” Peter hummed, looking at him contemplatively. “Do I usually have hugs for you?”

“Always!” Stiles said sternly.

Peter gave him a smirk, before reaching down and picking him up in a swinging motion that flipped him upside down and pinned him to the man’s side with one arm around his waist, his legs dangling over it in the air. Stiles let out a squeal at the sudden motion and devolved into a fit of laughter as his arms instinctively flailed around, trying to hold onto Peter so that he wouldn’t be dropped onto his head.

“I remember now...I _do_ always have hugs for you."

“This isn’t a hug--I’m _upside down_ ,” Stiles told him.

“Why does that make it not a hug?”

“Are we attacking the godson again?” Christopher asked as he came down the stairs and saw the three of them in the entryway.

“Always,” Peter answered.

“You didn’t even wait for me?” Christopher grabbed one of Stiles' flailing ankles and slipped his flip flop off, before lightly dragging his blunt fingernails down the exposed bottom of his foot, which elicited another shriek of laughter that caused Peter to visibly flinch.

“He could give a banshee a run for her money,” Peter said.

“He’s definitely a loud one,” Noah agreed.

Peter spun Stiles around and set him back on his feet so that the little boy could run off into the living room. Then Peter noticed something: Noah hadn’t removed his shoes or his jacket the way he usually did when he came over. A quick glance at Christopher showed that his husband was fully dressed, shoes and all.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked them. “Are you two leaving me?”

“Noah had a rough day and I offered to go to the bar with him,” Christopher explained.

“So you volunteered me to be alone with the pups all night while you guys go out drinking?”

"Talia is here."

"Right...thank the Gods for my wonderful sister that will surely offer to help out of the goodness of her heart. Oh wait...I don't have a sister like that."

“It's just for a few hours, Peter. The girls are finishing up some school work still, Derek is in his room, and Laura will be out with her friends until later tonight. You’ll be fine.”

“I _know_ that.” Peter rolled his eyes dramatically, his head moving to the side with the motion. “I’ve been raising children since Derek was born, which is five years longer than you have.”

“I recall you begging both Noah and I to come help you babysit almost every day.”

“Yeah, I actually have the bite marks to prove that,” Noah added.

“As do I.”

“Look, that doesn’t even matter,” Peter sighed, steering the conversation back to the current issue. “I want alcohol, too.”

“You can’t even get drunk on the drinks from the bar,” Noah reasoned. “That’s why it made the most sense for Chris to come with me and you could watch the pups for a bit.”

“So? You can’t feel packbonds as a human, but I still formed one with you because I wanted you to be included in my pack. Same with Miecz. And Christopher, for that matter!”

"I feel like that's not the same at all," Christopher said.

“Look," Noah chuckled. "Would you like to go out with me tomorrow night so we can exclude Chris instead?”

“I like Italian, Deputy,” Peter purred as he reached out to fix the collar of Noah’s shirt. “Pick me up at six?”

“See you then.” Noah winked at him playfully, before turning to head out to the car.

Christopher pressed a chaste kiss to Peter’s lips. “I love you.”

“Have fun with your beer,” Peter said shortly. Christopher cocked a challenging eyebrow at him and Peter gave in with a smile. “I love you, too, I guess.”

Christopher left the house and Peter shut and locked the door, before walking into the living room to find Stiles on the couch. He sat down beside him and his godson immediately curled into his side. Peter put his arm around the kid and ran his fingers through his hair mindlessly as they turned on Wall-E.

Then, Peter got an idea. A stupid idea...but he was curious! And bored. It wasn't _his_ fault that he was elected as the 'house adult' of the night.

He leaned down and subtly sniffed Stiles’ brown hair, which as he suspected, smelled thoroughly of Peter. In fact, Stiles as a whole almost smelled more like Peter's scent than Stiles'.

“Do you think Derek would like to watch Wall-E?” Peter asked innocently.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged. “Maybe I should go ask him!”

“Maybe you should.”

Stiles quickly clambered off the couch and took off towards the stairs exactly as Peter knew he would. He waited until he could hear that the kid was almost to the top of the stairs, before quietly following. He made sure to step lightly, not wanting Derek to hear that anyone except Stiles was there.

As soon as Stiles entered Derek’s room, the young wolf let out a low, threatening growl. Peter froze mid-step, his wolf inching towards the surface as it recognized danger. He wasn’t sure if he was more proud that Derek was capable of making such a viscous sound, or slightly embarrassed that he felt the urge to shift because of an almost-twelve-year-old.

Peter briefly wondered if this was a bad idea --which he was very known to have, especially when Christopher wasn’t there to stop him-- and worried that Derek might scare Stiles. He knew the young werewolf wouldn’t _hurt_ Stiles, but he could still be scary. Especially for a six-year-old.

“You’re a growly wolf today, huh?” Stiles asked, his voice even and unafraid --much to Peter’s relief.

“You smell wrong,” Derek told him, a growl still vibrating in his chest.

“I took a bath last night.”

“No, not...Just come here.”

Peter heard a shuffling in the room that he assumed was Stiles crawling up into Derek’s bed, then the younger boy giggled loudly.

“Your face is tickling me!” 

There was no verbal response from Derek, but Stiles continued laughing and shifting around for a few seconds, until the movement seemed to stop and the child let out a happy sigh.

“Better,” Derek grunted.

“You wanna come watch Wall-E with your uncle Peter and me?”

A feral snarl ripped through the room and Peter figured it was probably time for him to retreat downstairs again before Derek came out and found him. He silently went downstairs and reclaimed his place on the couch, where he was going to wait for either Stiles or the both of them to join him.

Within a couple of minutes, Stiles bounded down the stairs and into the living room, bringing a strong scent of _Derek_ with him. Peter couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his chest at the sight of him. Stiles’ worn-out white socks were replaced by fuzzy black slipper socks that nearly climbed up to his knees, and a large blue hoodie drowned three-quarters of his body.

Stiles walked over towards the couch, but before he could sit back beside Peter, Derek was there. He grabbed Stiles and playfully threw him onto the cushions on the opposite end of the couch from his uncle. Stiles obviously thought nothing of it, but Peter knew that Derek was keeping Stiles away from him. Peter wanted to make a comment about Derek's jealousy, but kept his mouth shut. Derek sat on the couch and Stiles leaned into him, a full cushion separating them from Peter.

The movie played and Stiles began shifting around and picking at the loose string in the hoodie’s sleeve. Peter knew from experience that Stiles would start his unabating commentary any minute, but it didn’t come. In fact, Stiles stopped moving around entirely. Peter looked over at them and saw that Derek had his hand resting open on his knee and Stiles was playing with his fingers, lightly twisting, pinching, and pulling at them as his eyes were trained on the screen.

* * *

Peter was laying in bed reading, when Christopher came into the room that night.

“How was the bar?” Peter asked him, watching as his husband stripped out of his shirt and began undoing his belt. His pupils dilated slightly as he eyed the tempting line of hair that trailed below Christopher’s navel.

“It was fun. How were the pups?”

Ugh, nothing like _that_ to kill the mood. How annoying.

Just as quickly as his spirit soured, it picked back up at the thought of his earlier revelation. “Good.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?”

“You always did something...and I know that smirk.”

Peter wanted to argue, but he knew it was pointless. “I tested something.”

“Do I want to know?”

“It seems like our nephew is a jealous little wolf, who is very territorial of his person.”

“This is why I don’t leave you with them,” Christopher sighed, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in him--but Peter knew better. He recognized the curious glint that flashed through his blue eyes and the way he shrugged out of his remaining clothes a bit faster, in a hurry to join Peter in the bed. Once he was just in his boxers, he fell onto the mattress beside the werewolf and put on what was likely the most casual expression he could muster, before asking, “So...what happened?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so awesome and giving me motivation! I appreciate you guys a lot :)

The sun had fallen behind the trees an hour prior, leaving the Beacon Hills Preserve in the shadowed darkness that allowed the werewolves of the Hale pack to run through the woods on their traditional "birthday run", where they would race to the stream two miles from the house and then back while shifted. There were few experiences more freeing than letting their instincts take over while running under the moon with their pack, so it was something they all looked forward to.

Peter sprinted alongside Derek, the birthday boy, while Cora and Malia ran slightly ahead of them, knocking their shoulders into each other back and forth in an attempt to get ahead of one another. Talia and Laura were on the run, too, but they had fallen behind at some point to talk about some plans that Laura had with her friend, much to Peter’s annoyance. Leave it to his sister to prioritize her perfect little heir. They didn't need them anyway.

Suddenly, Malia miscalculated her nudge and crossed slightly too far into her cousin’s space, causing Cora to trip over her and bring the both of them down to the ground in a rolling heap of claws and snarls. The thought of breaking up their fight briefly crossed Peter's mind, but he figured they needed to learn how to fight anyway. Who better to spar with than each other? Derek didn't seem too concerned over their scuffle either, judging by the way he simply leapt over them and continued his run. He let out a short, excited sound as he ducked around the trees and came back to Peter’s side.

Peter playfully pushed Derek and his nephew pushed him back, a sharp-toothed grin on his wolf-like face. He obviously felt more at home between the trees than cooped up in the Hale house as he often was, and Peter loved seeing the way he became so carefree and alive. He made a mental note that Derek needed this more frequently than their occasional "birthday runs" and decided that he was going to propose the idea of going on night runs with him. Perhaps Cora and Malia would benefit from it, too.

They had made it about halfway back to the house, when Derek noticeably perked up and flared his nostrils, before dropping down to all fours so that he could use his claws to pull him across the ground faster. Peter sniffed the air, but couldn't catch any other scents apart from the trees and dirt --certainly nothing that warranted running any faster. Peter sped after him nonetheless. 

It wasn’t until they were nearing the front lawn that Peter smelled what Derek was tracking: Cinnamon.

Peter knew at this point that Derek and Stiles were definitely mates. There was no other way he would have been able to smell Stiles from so far away while the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, as it was. Peter was the Left Hand of the pack, so he was thoroughly trained to be observant and to pay close attention to his senses. If he hadn't caught the scent, Derek shouldn't have been able to. Wolves were much more in tune with their mates' scents, which was the only explanation Peter could think of.

As soon as Derek and Peter made it out of the trees, Stiles was flying from the house to greet them. He barreled towards Derek, completely unbothered by his claws, fangs, and glowing eyes. Stiles really was the boy who ran with wolves. 

Derek crouched slightly just before Stiles tackled him backwards onto the ground and he allowed him to pin his wrists above his head. Stiles playfully snarled at him and curled his lips up to show his blunt teeth, to which Derek responded by growling loudly and baring his fangs in return. They held eye contact for a moment, then Stiles’ face relaxed into a warm smile and he said, “Hello, Birthday Wolf.”

Sometimes, Peter felt extremely concerned over Stiles’ lack of self preservation skills. He could tell that it was probably going to cause some issues in the future that he wasn’t exactly looking forward to, but at least he knew Derek would be there to watch out for him. 

Stiles looked down at Derek thoughtfully, before gently brushing two of his fingers from Derek’s protruding forehead down his widened nose. By the time his fingers fell off the tip, the young werewolf’s features had melted back to being humanlike. 

Peter watched in amazement, because really, _that_ was all it took for Derek to reign his wolf in after he had let it run wild in the woods? Peter assumed he was going to be at least partially shifted until they were sitting down for dinner. Logically, Peter knew that that was pretty much an anchor’s whole job, to be able to bring out their wolf’s humanity, but Peter still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea that Derek could be so easily...well, tamed. He wished Stiles existed back when he, Christopher, and Noah had to wrestle Derek into baths when he was a toddler. Those were disasters that resulted in many injuries for Peter and his two favorite humans.

Once Derek’s eyes dimmed back to their natural green, Stiles rolled off of him and looked up at Peter.

“Hi, Mr. Peter!” He greeted him cheerfully as he got to his feet. He skipped over and hugged him tightly around the waist.

“Hello, Miecz,” Peter said, tousling the boy’s hair. “Have you been helping with dinner? You smell good.”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed, as if suddenly remembering. “And, Derek, I helped your Uncle Chris make a chocolate cake for you! It looks so yummy, but my daddy said I can only have a little, because there’s lots of sugar. Oh, and you have to have the first piece since it’s your birthday--happy birthday! Oh wait, I already said that. Oops. You have to get your piece fast when it’s cake time so I can get my piece, okay?”

“Okay.” Derek stood up and dusted himself off, then started for the porch. 

The three of them stepped into the house and Peter nearly let out a sound that shouldn’t be made outside the bedroom at the smell of his husband’s cooking. He really did marry the right man.

“Christopher, you are a Godsend,” Peter called out as he toed off his shoes and pushed them against the wall beside the door. Christopher walked out of the kitchen and smiled fondly at him. Peter wasn’t sure if he closed the gap or the other man did, but suddenly Christopher had his arms wrapped loosely around the back of Peter’s neck and his wolf, still closer to the surface than usual, was very happy about his mate being safe and in his arms.

“Mmm, my werewolf has returned to me,” Christopher hummed as he pulled Peter in closer to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Always.”

“Noah and I were about to just put some meat on the porch and see how long it took you to show up.”

Peter growled softly and flashed his blue eyes, which caused Christopher to subtly bite his lower lip. Peter wanted to bite it for him. “You could have just sat out there on the porch in less clothing and I would’ve shown up faster, I assure you.”.

“Well, I’m going to throw up,” Noah said loudly, making his presence in the living room known. Well, Peter knew he was there --it was more like Noah was demanding that his presence be acknowledged to stop the PDA before it got worse. “You’re missing some pups, I think.”

“They’re still in the preserve trying to kill each other,” Peter answered nonchalantly.

A quick scan of the living room to his left and the kitchen to his right proved that Claudia had not accompanied Noah and Stiles that night. It wasn’t surprising, really, since Claudia was never particularly close to the Hale pack. Even when she had first started dating Noah, she wasn’t a fan of how he would prioritize the pack and spend so much time at the Hale house with Christopher and Peter, instead of more time with her. 

Peter didn’t blame her, of course --none of them did. Very few humans were able to wrap their head around being part of a pack, since they were so used to normal family dynamics. Being away from pack members was very different than being apart from family members. It was like leaving a body part in another place, which made it nearly impossible to feel complete without being surrounded by your pack. It wasn’t lost on Peter how extremely lucky he was to have found a husband and a best friend who were able to fit so easily into his pack and the werewolf culture. 

Despite Noah not being able to feel the pack bond he shared with him, Peter knew that he still felt his best around the Hales. Claudia accompanied them here and there, but Noah and Stiles were usually on their own at the Hale house.

“When is cake?” Stiles cut into the conversation, getting everyone’s attention.

“After dinner, which is ready now,” Chris told him. “Go wash your hands and let’s eat.”

Stiles left towards the downstairs bathroom and Derek headed into the kitchen to wash his hands in there. The adults followed him in.

“Twelve already, huh?” Noah commented, looking at the birthday boy. “I remember changing your diapers and now you’re a preteen. Maybe your Uncles and I really _are_ getting old.”

“Don’t ruin this night for me, Noah,” Peter groaned.

The sound of Malia’s feet running loudly up the porch stairs sounded a moment before she charged into the house, her eyes burning gold. “Steak!”

Cora sped in a moment later, slamming directly into her cousin and sending them both stumbling forward.

“And mashed potatoes with gravy and asparagus--but you wouldn’t care about that, huh?” Christopher asked. They had the audacity to shake their heads, much to Peter’s amusement. “Wash hands.”

The girls took off towards the stairs, nearly trampling Jackson, who had to all but leap into the kitchen to avoid the collision.

“I don’t get what’s so special about steak.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I already washed my hands, so you don’t need to tell me again.”

“Then he obviously wasn’t talking to you, Jax,” Peter told him.

He didn’t even need to look at Christopher to know that he was getting the _‘his attitude is all you’_ look from him. He already knew. Jackson’s teenage years were going to give him a major headache that he wasn’t looking forward to. He was _way_ too much like him.

***

They had barely finished dinner, when Stiles asked, “Is it cake time yet?”

“Stiles, you’re forgetting to say something to Chris,” Noah reminded as he set his dirty plate into the sink.

“Oh!” Stiles gasped. He ran over and threw his arms around Christopher’s middle. “I love you and thank you for dinner. It was yummy. I want to eat it every day.”

Stiles frequently poured his heart out to the girls --if he wasn’t mated to Derek, Peter would have assumed he would end up with one of them-- but his ‘I love you’s to Christopher and Peter were few and far between.

Peter damn near _cried_ as he watched his husband and godson,but he’d never admit it.

“That’s a little more than I was suggesting you say,” Noah chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

“Leave us alone, Noah--I’m getting hugs,” Christopher told him, holding onto the little boy tightly. He pressed a kiss against the side of his head, before letting him go. Peter could tell he didn’t really want to, and he didn’t blame him. Stiles gave the best hugs.

“Thanks, Uncle Chris,” Derek spoke up.

“Anytime.”

“Cake time?” Stiles chirped again.

“Why don’t we do presents first so I can relax into a food coma for the rest of the night after the cake?” Peter proposed.

“Right, because Derek’s birthday is all about you.” Christopher crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter.

“What _isn’t_ all about Peter?” Noah snorted.

“I’m glad we’re all on the same page.” Peter smirked. “Presents first.”

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, grabbing onto the werewolf’s arm excitedly. “Oh my gosh--I’ll go get your present! I forgot it in the living room, so I have to get it. But guess what? I wrapped it all by _myself_! And I picked it out and I know you’ll love it because --wait, I can’t tell you. You were gonna let me tell you! Bad Derek!”

Derek just blinked at the child, then reached down to peel off the tight grip Stiles had on his forearm. “Go get it.”

Stiles quickly ran out of the kitchen and Noah leaned towards him to whisper, “If you hate what he got you, it’s totally fine. I have the receipt still.”

Derek looked at him, but didn’t say anything, since his attention was quickly drawn back to Stiles, who ran in again with a large bundle in his arms that shielded his entire torso from view. Peter noted with amusement that the wrapping was _definitely_ done by Stiles. There were at least six different paper patterns, all sloppily taped together to cover the gift.

Derek reached out and grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt to prevent him from running straight into the table, which he was headed for. He took the present and sat in one of the kitchen chairs as Stiles sat beside him, practically vibrating in excitement.

“I used all of the wrapping papers we had because I couldn’t pick one because they are just all so pretty,” Stiles explained, flailing his arms a bit in the direction of the gift.

Derek nodded, before ripping it open to reveal a small pile of books. He pulled out the main bulk of the present, which was a boxed set of _The Hobbit_ and _The Lord of the Rings_ , and looked it over carefully.

“I don’t remember what it’s about, but I asked the bookstore lady and she said some cool things --I remember that I thought it was cool, even though I don’t remember now-- so I got it for you because I knew you would love it,” Stiles said, sliding out of his chair and leaning against Derek’s shoulder to look at the pictures on the cardboard holding the set together. “It’s not on your bookshelf already --I looked.”

“I haven’t read this,” Derek assured him. “It looks cool.”

“I knew you would think that!”

Derek placed the series on the table, then looked down at the three books sitting at the bottom of the half-open wrapping paper.

“Stiles, why did you put those in there?” Noah sighed, noticing the _Magic Treehouse_ books. “Derek doesn’t want your books.”

“I _know_ that, Dad, but they aren’t just for Derek! I’m _sharing_ them with him so we can read them together and he can put them in his bookshelf.”

Derek picked up the books and fanned them out to look at the colorful covers.

 _#4: Pirates Past Noon, #5: Night of the Ninjas,_ and _#6: Afternoon on the Amazon._

“Kid, you can’t give people presents that are actually for you,” Noah chuckled.

“I’m not!” Stiles insisted. “I gave him other books for only him, too.”

“That was very thoughtful, Stiles,” Christopher told him, his voice tight as he obviously tried to hold in his laughter. Peter had no such control.

“Jesus.” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“I love this shared present idea,” Peter joked. “Noah, I actually found some cashmere v-neck sweaters that I thought would look just ravishing on me--I mean, on _you_. I was thinking about getting those for you this year. We could share them--it would make it extra special, I think.”

The three adults devolved into a fit of laughter for a few seconds, until Peter’s attention was drawn to the wave of sad chemosignals that caused him to notice that Stiles’ face had fallen and he was looking down at his feet as his fingers picked at the strings of his hoodie. 

He was about to say something, but then Derek pulled Stiles into a hug and nuzzled his cheek with his own to scent him. Stiles immediately smiled and hugged him back, burying his face in the older boy’s shoulder. 

After a few long moments, Derek pulled away and handed him the _Magic Treehouse_ books. “Put those away.”

“You like them?” Stiles whispered hopefully, with unshed tears in his eyes.

Peter had never felt more like an asshole than in that moment --which was definitely saying something.

“You know I love reading with you, Mischief.”

“They thought my books were stupid.”

“So what?” Derek put his hand on Stiles’ upper arm, drawing his attention from his hoodie strings to his eyes. “ _You_ know that I like them... _that’s_ what matters. Not what they think. Right?”

Stiles nodded and took the books from Derek, before leaving the kitchen.

Since Christopher and Noah were not eavesdroppers like Peter and couldn’t smell that Stiles was sad, they both froze in shock when Derek said sternly, “Don’t laugh at him--it was a good present.”

“We weren’t laughing _at_ him--” Christopher tried, but stopped when Derek flashed his eyes and clenched his fists as his body tensed.

“ _Yes_ , you were. You were acting like sharing presents was ridiculous and you thought Stiles was being selfish and trying to give himself a present--but you’re _wrong_. We read _together._ That’s why we’re sharing those ones. You shouldn’t make him feel sad or embarrassed just because he knows that we read together and you guys don’t. Don’t make Stiles feel bad about it _ever_ , because I _like_ reading with him.”

Everyone in the kitchen was silent as they looked at him in complete shock. Peter had never heard Derek say so many words at once before, so he was positive that neither of the other two men had either.

“You’re right...we shouldn’t have laughed in front of him,” Noah finally said.

Then, Stiles came back into the kitchen and Derek's demeanor instantly became relaxed, as if the conversation had never happened.

"Let's finish presents so we can eat cake," Derek said.

Stiles _beamed_.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter absolutely loved that he was blessed by the Gods to have five pups --Derek and Cora included, of course-- and he really wouldn’t trade it for anything. He liked having a large pack full of pups and watching them all grow. He couldn’t imagine life without his children. There was one downside, though, which he was pretty sure he would never get over: five kids required an SUV. Christopher’s SUV was a Lexus, at least, but still. Peter was not an SUV man and he absolutely hated having to borrow his husband’s car.

He wasn’t planning on having to use the Lexus to pick Stiles up from the Stilinski house that night, but he also thought he would be able to sneak out of the house without the pups realizing. He was wrong. The second he stepped out onto the porch, Derek, Cora, Allison, and Malia were on his heels, following him out to the car.

So, he had to take the Lexus. Sometimes he wished that Christopher didn’t work from home so often. If the SUV wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have been able to use it. 

Peter sat in the front seat, while Derek took his place beside him. Cora and Allison had taken the back row, while Malia was in the middle row beside the two other empty seats --one of which, Stiles would take on the way home.

Peter turned onto the Stilinskis’ street and made it about halfway to the house, before his stomach dropped and the air left his lungs. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, yet all at once.

A small basketball bounced into the street in front of the Stilinski house and Stiles thoughtlessly followed to get it, running out into the road. He bent down to catch the ball before it could escape too far, while another car from the opposite end of the street flew through a stop sign, looking down at something in her hand --a phone, probably.

Peter’s brain hadn’t even caught up to the situation, before he heard the passenger door of the Lexus thrown open and Derek was sprinting towards Stiles with more speed than Peter had ever seen him manage. Hell, maybe even more than Peter himself could. Half of a second before Derek would have made a head-on collision with the car, he reached Stiles. He slung an arm around him and threw himself into the grass of the Stilinski’s front yard, pulling the both of them out of the way. Derek held the younger boy tightly against his chest with one arm and put the other out to brace them as he took the brunt of the impact and rolled them so that Stiles wouldn’t hit the ground. 

Peter swerved the Lexus to park haphazardly on the side of the road, not concerned in the slightest that he was parked too far from the curb. People could drive around the car--he had bigger things to worry about. He got out of the vehicle and looked at the two boys, relief flooding through him when he didn't smell any blood.

Derek was sniffing Stiles frantically and rubbing his shifted face against both sides of his neck, simultaneously scenting him and assuring himself that Stiles was okay. Stiles looked like he was in a shocked daze, but didn’t appear hurt. Derek let out a soft whine, which seemed to snap Stiles out of his shock and he pulled away slightly to take in the wolfish features of the older boy. Stiles looked at him in alarm for a moment, before quickly pulling Derek’s face into his chest, using his arms and torso to block him from view. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Stiles whispered, stroking the back of Derek’s head soothingly. “I’m okay...I promise. You’re okay, too. We’re both okay.”

Peter was trying to tell _himself_ that it was okay, because holy shit. Derek had just run head-on at a _car_ and Stiles was almost _run over_. Peter leaned back against the side of the SUV for a moment, taking a few deep breaths with his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to calm his heartbeat. There were few times when he had lost control over his shift, but he could feel the light prickling sensation at his fingertips, where his claws were on the verge of making an appearance, and he knew that his eyes would be glowing if they were open. He needed to _calm down_ before he shifted in broad daylight. It was bad enough that Derek’s control had slipped.

Where the hell was Claudia? What was Stiles doing outside by himself --at rush hour, no less!

Peter didn’t even realize he had moved forward until he was kneeling beside the two boys. He reached out and put his hand on Stiles’ cheek, then brushed his dark hair out of his face, where it had grown to fall slightly into his eyes. “Miecz, Gods, what--”

“I didn’t see the car,” Stiles said quietly. “I was just getting the ball and then I saw it--the car--and then Derek grabbed me. I’m not hurt. Derek’s okay, too. Just...wolfy.”

“You’re okay?” Peter asked his nephew as he reached out to touch his shoulder. The second he did, Derek growled and held Stiles closer, rubbing his face against his shirt. Stiles quickly swatted Peter’s hand off and leaned his face on the top of Derek’s head.

“He doesn’t want to be touched right now,” Stiles whispered, as if he didn’t want to spook the young werewolf.

Peter wondered in that moment if Stiles actually knew that he was Derek’s anchor. Had he figured it out? Had Derek told him? Peter was sure that Derek knew--he wasn’t an idiot.

He nodded and stood up. His hands were still shaking, but he was getting control again now that he had seen they really were both okay. Well, Derek would be once he got himself back in control.

The SUV’s back door opened and the girls looked out at them with worried eyes.

“Are they alright?” Cora asked.

“They’re fine,” Peter assured her. “Stay in the car--I need to talk to Claudia.”

As Peter headed towards the porch, his lingering feelings of fear turned into anger. How could she endanger his godson’s life like that? Who leaves a six-year-old outside by themselves? He knocked on the front door a bit harder than he probably should have, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. She opened the door with a polite smile on her face, which only fueled his anger.

“Hello, Peter. Stiles’ stuff is in that bag.” She pointed to a small backpack laying on the porch near his feet. Her fingers strummed along the cover of the book in her hand and she tapped her foot, as if she was mildly annoyed that he had interrupted her reading.

“What the hell was Stiles doing outside by himself?” Peter growled. “You thought it would be a good idea to _read_ while your six-year-old was out front completely unattended? Your window isn’t even open to be able to hear him.”

“He wanted to wait outside until you picked him up.”

“And you just _let_ him? You could have sat out there with him or something.”

“Is he okay?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing in obvious confusion as to why this was such a big deal.

“By the grace of the Gods, yes. He chased a ball out into the street and Derek pulled him out of the way at the last second.”

“Well, I don’t know why he would have run out like that--he should know better.”

Peter was confused. He wanted to be angry and tell her off, because his godson almost _died_ on account of her bad parenting decision, but he couldn’t feel anything except a deep uneasiness. This wasn’t normal behavior for Claudia. She had always been more protective of Stiles than Peter even was of his own pups. It took a ridiculous amount of convincing from Noah, Christopher, and himself to get her to allow Stiles to even play with the werewolf children, because she had always been terrified of an accident happening. They finally got her to agree on the condition that he would not be left alone with them, but those rules had somewhat been abandoned as he got older. Not that Claudia knew, but Noah didn’t seem to mind that Stiles would hang out in Cora or Malia’s rooms without supervision, and that was good enough for Peter. He knew the girls wouldn’t hurt Stiles--they adored him. The only one he was genuinely concerned about in regards to possibly losing control was Derek, but...well, the fates made sure that wouldn’t be an issue.

So, Claudia leaving Stiles outside by himself at six o’ clock, while the streets were filled with people coming home from work? That was odd. It was wrong.

“Are you still going to take him for the night?” Claudia asked when he didn’t say anything for awhile.

“Yeah, I am,” Peter answered. There was no way he was going home without Stiles that night. “Claudia, is everything okay?”

“Of course.”

“You’re sure?”

Claudia nodded, before giving him a short wave and shutting the door. Peter grabbed Stiles’ backpack and headed towards the car. Derek and Stiles seemed to have made it off the lawn and into the middle row of seats beside Malia while he was talking to Claudia. Peter was glad to see that his nephew seemed to have regained control.

“Are we all ready to go?” Peter asked as he got into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah! Let’s go home, so I can show Stiles my new Barbie!” Allison said excitedly.

“You got a new Barbie?” Stiles gasped, turning around in his seat. “Is she pretty?”

“Super pretty.” Allison nodded. “You can even play with her, if you want.”

“Okay!”

* * *

When they got home, Allison dragged Stiles to her room and Cora and Malia followed. Peter worked off his shoes as he watched Derek make his way upstairs with much less urgency than the girls.

“You smell...conflicted,” Talia noted, leaning against the archway to the kitchen.

“Claudia left Stiles alone out front and he ran into the street. Derek got him out of the way just before a car nearly hit him.”

“Really?” Talia asked, her eyes widening. “That doesn’t sound like Claudia.”

“I know--I need to call Noah.”

“Stiles and Derek are fine, though?”

“Yeah...Stiles got over it faster than any of us. He calmed Derek down when he shifted.”

“He shifted in public?” Talia hissed, straightening up. “Gods, he could have been seen!”

“Of course he shifted--Stiles almost _died_ in front of him. Talia, _I_ almost shifted. It was a scary situation.”

“How long was he like that? Did anyone see?”

“Nobody saw.” Peter told her, his voice hard. "Stiles shielded his face from view."

Stiles nearly died, Derek went through the trauma of almost losing his anchor --and mate, not that Talia was involved enough in Derek’s life to realize-- and she was only concerned about his shift? Did she really think Peter wouldn’t be alerting her immediately if he thought Derek had been seen?

“I don’t understand how you’re being so nonchalant about this,” Talia said.

Gods give him strength to not rip his sister’s head from her shoulders. He was twenty-eight years strong.

“I don’t understand a lot about you, Talia.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” She growled. “I’m only looking out for the pack--which _should_ be your job.”

“He wasn’t seen! You really think--” Peter stopped himself before he just got into further trouble. His ‘tone’ was about to turn a lot more hostile, which would only bring him a lecture he didn’t want to listen to. He gritted out, “My apologies, _Alpha._ ”

Before she could say anything else that would provoke his already on-edge nerves after the events of the day, he headed up the stairs. As he entered his bedroom, he noticed that Christopher wasn’t in there. He must have been in the library or the office. Peter sat on his bed and pulled his phone out.

He knew he needed to tell Noah, but what was he supposed to say? Something is wrong with your wife and she nearly let your son get run over? That seemed a little aggressive.

He pushed ‘call’ and the phone rang for a few seconds, before Noah answered, _“I know you’re clingy--but I’m at work, Sweetheart.”_

Peter thought about replying in the same light-hearted way, but knew that he needed to just get on with the conversation. “I called for a reason, actually.”

_“What’s up?”_

“I think...has Claudia been acting weird lately?”

 _“Claudia? Why?”_  
  
“She left Stiles out front by himself while he was waiting for me to pick him up. She was reading inside with the door and windows shut--she wouldn’t have even been able to hear him.”

_“She left him outside unsupervised?”_

“Yeah, and he...he almost got hurt, Noah. He ran into the street. If Derek hadn’t jumped out of my SUV --which was still moving-- and tackled him out of the road...it wouldn’t have been good.”

There was a silence for a few seconds, before he asked, _“Is he alright? Stiles? Is he fine? And Derek?”_

“Yeah, no injuries...we’re at the house now.”

_“Okay...okay, good.”_

“Noah, that was seriously dangerous. Has she done that before?”

 _“I don’t think so. Gods, not that I know of, anyway. I guess I wouldn’t know, would I? She's only alone with him while I'm at work,"_ Noah sighed. _“She left dinner in the oven the other night and the whole kitchen was filled with smoke before I noticed. She’s skipping showers, which she has never done since I got with her. She’s just...I don’t know. Maybe she’s stressed or something and it’s making her act weird, but...she won’t tell me what’s wrong.”_

“I think you should talk to her and see if you can leave Stiles here when you’re not at home with him...at least until whatever is going on with her stops. I’m going to lose my mind now that I know Stiles might be running through the streets during rush hour.”

 _“Yeah...yeah, me too. Shit —I can’t believe she would do that. It’s so unlike her. I’ll talk to her about leaving Stiles with you guys until she’s feeling better.”_

“Okay...Let me know how it goes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter actually also takes place on this same day, but later into the night. It would just be too long to include it here and I think it would be a good scene to wrap the book up with! So, I'll post that tomorrow.
> 
> (Just in case anyone is getting the vibe that I hate Claudia, I don't! I don't think she's a bad mom at all. I think she's just...going through some things, you know? Okay. I'm glad we're all on the same page.)  
> (Also...we support boys being allowed to play with Barbies in this house, because boys can like dolls, too. And I bet Stiles would come up with the coolest things to play with them with the girls. They'd be adventure Barbies with a side of sass, style, and fake food)


	6. Chapter 6

Peter was laying in his warm bed, his head resting on Christopher’s chest as he listened to his steady heartbeat. He knew from experience if he laid there much longer, he would fall asleep. There was nothing more calming than soft blankets, satin sheets and his mate healthy and safe underneath him. He really, _really_ didn’t want to move.

“I should talk to Derek,” Peter sighed. “But you need to tell me that I have to, or I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to leave this bed.”

“Peter,” Christopher said. Peter looked up at him expectantly. “Get the fuck out of this bed and make sure our nephew is okay.”

Peter groaned as his husband pushed him towards the edge of the bed. He rolled onto his feet and headed for the door. “Don’t fall asleep without me.”

Once Peter made it into the hallway, he noticed that Allison’s bedroom door was wide open. As he got closer, he heard three people breathing in the room. He knew one was his daughter and one had to be Stiles, who rotated between the girls’ rooms whenever he would stay the night --which meant the third one had to be his nephew.

He peeked into the room and saw Stiles and Allison in the bed, their limbs tangled up in each other and the blankets twisted around them in a way that left their feet uncovered. How terribly uncomfortable --how were they even sleeping with cold feet? Allison’s face was buried in Stiles’ neck, while the latter’s head was tipped back with his mouth hanging open in true Stilinski form. What was _wrong_ with Stilinskis? Why couldn’t they sleep like normal people with their mouths closed?

Peter looked away from the bed and found Derek sitting on the ground, his back against the wall by the door. He whispered, “You know, I would be a bad uncle if I didn’t point out how incredibly creepy people might think you are if you just watch them sleep.”

Derek glanced up at him, then looked back at the bed without comment.

“How are you doing?” Peter asked him.

Derek shrugged one shoulder.

Peter contemplated asking if he wanted to go talk in his room, but he knew that Derek wouldn’t allow him in there. It was also very unlikely that he would be able to take his nephew away from his mate after he had almost lost him.

“I wanted to talk to you before I went to bed.”

“Is it mom?”

“What?”

“She’s mad,” Derek explained. “Did she want you to talk to me?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. And your mother has been mad at me since the day I was born. You shouldn’t let that get to you.”

“I shouldn’t have shifted.”

“Why not?” Peter asked him. He hated that Derek was feeling badly about saving his mate, because he shouldn’t. Wolves mate for life...a wolf who loses their mate loses themselves, as well. Their control, their ability to love, oftentimes their sanity. It would have been extremely bad if Derek hadn’t been able to save Stiles.

“I lost control,” Derek said, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

“Yes...but why shouldn’t you have shifted?”

“It’s...dangerous.”

“I don’t disagree with you. Shifting in public is a horrible idea and can lead to very bad consequences.” Peter nodded. “ _But_ ...why _did_ you shift?”

“Stiles.”

“Exactly. So, if you hadn’t shifted...what do you think would have happened? If you hadn’t let your wolf take over in that moment to get you to Stiles, how do you think tonight would have gone?”

Derek looked at Stiles for a moment and a wave of distressed chemosignals radiated from him. “He would’ve gotten hurt.”

“Maybe, if he was _very_ lucky. It’s far more likely that he would’ve gotten _killed_ , Derek. Stiles is small and very breakable...he would probably be dead right now.”

A growl rumbled in Derek's chest and his eyes flashed gold, before he shut them tightly and took a few deep breaths. Peter noticed that the inhale and exhale matched Stiles’ perfectly. Even in sleep, Stiles was still anchoring his nephew.

“He’s okay,” Derek whispered. 

Peter knew he was likely speaking to himself, but he responded nonetheless. “Yes...and that’s because of _you_ . You may have lost control, but you were protecting your pack. That’s what you _should_ do. You let your wolf take over because the alternative would be Stiles dying. Talia doesn’t look at the whole picture all the time...she knows shifting in public is bad, therefore she believes that what you did was wrong. Knowing what would have happened if you hadn’t lost control, do you regret what you did?”

There was a moment of silence while Derek seemed to think it over, before saying, “No.”

“You shouldn’t. Despite what our dear Alpha thinks, I think you did a really good thing today. I’m proud of you. Christopher and Noah feel the same.”

Derek nodded and Peter grinned.

Talia was not good at looking at the big picture. It wasn’t necessarily her fault --she wasn’t trained as a Left or Right Hand. It was Peter and Christopher’s jobs to look at the big picture and her job to lead. Peter would eliminate threats and ensure the prosperity of their pack, while Christopher would assist her in political affairs and advise her about the inner workings of her pack.

The problem was that Talia liked to act as if Peter was a bad Left Hand, which infuriated him. Traditionally speaking, Left Hands were not supposed to have families of their own. They were not supposed to marry or have children, because their loyalty should be to the pack first and foremost --not tied to anyone in particular. Talia was under the impression that Peter’s loyalty should be to _her_ over all else, but that was not the role of a Left Hand. If anything, that should have been Christopher’s job to have the Alpha as the top priority. Sometimes he wondered if Talia should have been more educated by their parents on the roles outside of Alpha. It would have saved them a lot of arguments.

Talia wasn’t happy when he told her he was mated to Christopher. She was even less happy when he told her that they were expecting Allison. She was under the impression that since Peter had a family, he was unfit for his position--which was completely ridiculous. Regardless of his mate status, he was raised and trained as a Left Hand. That wasn't something he could simply turn off. It couldn't be overwritten.

Peter did not think Derek's shift was a big deal, because he knew the importance of Stiles' safety in relation to the success of the pack. Of course, as his godfather, Peter wanted Stiles to be safe. But it was more than that. Stiles was able to help Derek control himself, which was vital, since he would need to be able to reliably fill his role as the second-in-command once Laura took over as Alpha in the future. Stiles would ensure that, as his anchor and his mate --therefore, his safety was a priority.

Peter had been so caught up in his head, he almost forgot that he was still standing in Allison’s room with Derek, until he spoke.

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t what?” Peter asked.

“Let him get hit. I was just…”

“Derek, that was a very scary situation. I know how terrifying it was for you...I’ve done a lot worse things than shift when your Uncle Christopher was in danger.”

“Uncle Chris is your _mate_. My mom wouldn’t be mad at you for it.”

Peter thought back to the night his eyes turned blue and his stomach churned at the memory. He did not mind killing to protect his pack...but that night had changed a lot of things, including his relationship with his sister. It wasn’t his brightest moment, but he couldn't say he regretted it when the alternative would have been losing his mate. Plus, Allison, Malia, and Jackson would never have been born. “Oh, your mom was very mad at me for it. Very, _very_ mad. She almost threw me out of the pack...and she had every reason to.” 

“But she forgave you?”

“No,” Peter sighed. He was definitely not getting into this story with a twelve-year-old, so he changed the subject. “Stiles means a lot to you, huh?”

Derek shrugged and nodded. “I guess.”

“I just assumed, since you scent him so often.”

“You scent him, too,” Derek said bitterly. Peter smirked at the clear jealousy in his voice. “The girls do, too.”

“It’s different for you though, isn’t it? It’s not about greeting or affection. You scent him because you want to claim him.”

Derek looked up at Peter with a hard set in his jaw and a defensive look in his eyes. “What?”

“I’m just trying to get in your head a bit. Figure out if you know why you care so much,” Peter told him. Really, he wanted to know if Derek was aware that they were mates after the whole ordeal. Sue him --he needed to know these things! It was his job as Derek’s uncle to know about his mate status.

“He’s...my anchor...or something,” Derek admitted, flexing his hands anxiously. Peter knew that he hated discussing his feelings, but he really didn't push him to all that often. 

“Good, I’m glad you’ve realized that.”

It was better than nothing.

“I don’t _claim_ him, though.”

“You smelled me on him and covered him in your scent until I couldn’t even smell _Stiles_ anymore,” Peter pointed out. “That’s not claiming?”

Derek let out a noise that seemed somewhere between embarrassed and disagreeing and the older wolf laughed.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed to talk to me about caring for someone, Derek. You know that, right? You can tell me anything.”

There was a moment of silence, before Derek said, “I wanna tell you something...but I don’t really wanna talk about it because I’m not sure how I feel about it...and I don’t wanna be told how to feel.”

“Well...I’ll be here when you do know,” Peter told him, before reaching down to run a hand through his hair. 

Then, he finally got to return to that beautiful bed of his. Oh, and his husband. He'd be there, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next book "I Thought I Wouldn't Be Understood Without Words" (Talia's POV) is posted, so make sure you go check that one out now that you've finished this one! I hope you enjoyed Peter's POV as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> [I know I said I would write the oneshot where Noah tells Peter and Chris about Claudia's diagnosis next, but...okay, so I realized that I could do much better than a oneshot. I need a few more days to plan it out, but it's going to be good, I think. I'll post it next week after the Talia one! So...we get one more week before the angst rolls in]

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Your comments/kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks literally mean the WORLD to me. Thanks for reading :)
> 
> If you want to read more in this particular Sterek series, bookmark/subscribe to the “Derek’s Person” series. That is where all of the fics I will write that happen within this universe will be posted. This is the fourth installment in the series, so feel free to read the first three while you wait for updates :)


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